


Red

by JamlessGenius



Category: GOT7
Genre: Angst, Flower Language, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, Mark Tuan Needs A Hug, Mark loves Jackson, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Sick Character, Soulmates, Spider Lilies, Terminal Illnesses, Unrequited Love, but like... soft soulmate au, no beta we die like women, sort of canon compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:02:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamlessGenius/pseuds/JamlessGenius
Summary: Mark loved red flowers.Mark loved Jackson.What a sick irony that they were killing him.Or: A MarkSon Hanahaki AU where Mark loves too much and Hanahaki is supposed to be fictional.
Relationships: Mark Tuan & Im Jaebum | JB, Mark Tuan/Jackson Wang
Comments: 4
Kudos: 73





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [you've got the antidote for me](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16138103) by [Kandakicksass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kandakicksass/pseuds/Kandakicksass). 



“Pay attention to me,” he wanted to yell. He wanted to cuddle and talk like they’d used to. But Mark remained silent. Because he was the silent friend. That was his role, only being loud enough to fill the gaps. A quiet comfort when his second family was so stretched apart the way it was. He missed them.

“Come closer,” Yugyeom teased a friend of his over the phone. Perhaps BamBam, or Jungkook. 

He was better at asking for what he wanted. Most others were. He teased at times, but being open with his emotions and wanting in words wasn’t his MO.

“I never trusted them!” Jinyoung cried out in jest as a sudden twist flashed across the screen in a drama.

“This is why we can’t have nice things,” Youngjae smiled consolingly. 

“Sassy, I like that,” Jinyoung chose to wink in response. Mark shook his head, whenever they were together with enough energy, life was a mess. 

This was Jackson’s favorite part of the drama being rerun. The absence of the younger made something Mark knew, all too well, ache. It was a familiar dull pain. He didn’t like to think about it.

He decided to just go to bed instead.

_ The nightmare was back, a reoccurring thing. He grasped onto Jackson’s hand as the ground below him crumbled into pieces (in ways he never let his composure do). He grasped at Jackson’s hand, and the younger was grasping onto the land above, just them in the pit. Jackson saw his grip slipping, as he fruitlessly called for someone to come and save them, as he always did. He always was hopeful like that.  _

_ “Don’t let me go!” Jackson yelled, grunting with exertion. Sweat began to make their fingers slip. _

_ “Don’t you see I’m trying? Just... yell for help!”  _

_ But the difference widened, until he was barelyholding onto the Hong Kong native’s hand. Jackson’s eyes were wide with tears, his voice rough from screaming.  _

_ “You don’t see me like you think you do, Jacks,” Mark admitted in that moment of cold silence. Jackson began to weep, seeing this for a confession they’d never be able to finish.  _

_ “Please don’t leave me.” Jackson’s voice was thick and raw, his eyes were wide with fear. _

_ Mark looked into the darkness below, and up at the boy he loved. He loved him, and tonight, he made a decision he never had before in all those months of dreams. Instead of dragging his beloved golden boy down, he made a choice. _

_ “I’m sorry, Jia-Er,” Mark smiled weakly at the fencer. _

_And let go of his hand._

_And he_

_f_

_e_

_l_

_l_

_“Why can’t he love me back?” An echo of his own voice bounded around the abyss. Mark only closed his eyes as he began to plummet faster and faster until-_

Mark opened his eyes to a sore throat. A hazard of his line of work. The other members were understanding, but Jackson decided to bombard him with texts before giving up and calling him. For all that’s holy, he loved that man. Aggressively kind and always trying to be there. Was it any wonder he’d fallen in love?

“I heard you’re sick, Markie-pooh! Why didn’t you call me?! Let me see you!” Jackson began to fuss over the phone, in his caring and open way. Mark felt warmer with every word. Upon hanging up, he cleared his aching throat, only to feel something on his tongue. It was light, not phlegm or anything. Braving to pick it out, Mark stared at the little red petal between his fingertips.

What.

Like any sane person, Mark turned to frantic research. Naver, Yahoo, and finally Google. Searching in Korean gave him nothing so he tried English keywords. He didn’t like not knowing things. But all the internet gave him was a fictional disease. If your love was unrequited, you coughed up flower petals until you died, got them surgically removed, or your love was returned. Only issue there, hanahaki shouldn’t exist, and there is no surgery to remove them. 

He was going to die, and for a reason taboo to idols- to South Korea.

Mark closed his eyes and took a deep breath. How much longer did he even have? Mark wasn’t one for impulsive decisions- but he made one then. He had to hide this.

_ For the first time in a year and a half, his dream was different. He was sitting in a hospital bed, just him and Jackson. The younger was holding his hand. _

_ “You make me want what I can’t have,” he whispered into Jackson’s knuckles. Jackson’s eyes widened as he stared at him. Mark just smiled, seeing his heart monitor begin to slow. _

_ “What are you saying...hyung?” _

_ He knew Jackson held no issue with homosexuality. Jackson’s disgust didn’t scare him, but his rejection did. But lying in this hospital bed, about to die, it didn’t matter what Jackson said. Because Mark wasn’t going to be around for an ending. This wasn’t some fairy tale- it was his life. For all his fortune in life, love was not in the cards. _

_ “I may never have another chance to say this, now that I’m here. But I love you. I’ve been in love with you for a long time. I know you don’t love me. I never stood a chance, did I?” _

_ “I don’t want to hurt you-“ Jackson began, fumbling for words that adorable way he did when he got flustered. _

_ “Lie to me then,” Mark’s voice grew weaker as the heartbeats grew sparser. _

_ He never heard a response because, in his dream, he died then and there. _

Mark did keep his approaching death a secret, for months. He did little things, held the other members more, called his family religiously, always hiding behind a mask of calm that this could be the last time he did. The flower numbers increased, and so did his research. Hanahaki shouldn’t be real. But then what could it be? Nobody would execute biowarfare on him, could they? And of all the flowers, why lycoris? Spider lilies were pretty- but so tied with death in their meaning. Was it any wonder he was going to die? He filled his search history with respiratory research and flower petal disposal methods. He got better at excusing himself to dispose of the flowers that were killing him inside. How sad was it, that he still liked red? That he still loved Jackson? The members never noticed, and Mark let himself be their support, because he loves them. He wasn’t a liar but his need to be their support turned him into one and it hurt. Bathroom breaks became runny noses and phone calls and chores to be done. Sore throats were excused as overdoing it in practice. Of course nobody would know, and Mark kept it that way.

He’s started drawing them, spider lilies. In life, they can be quite pretty.

In retrospect, it is probably morbid, but maybe Mark has always been just slightly masochistic.

Nevertheless- he soldiers on. Continues his dance practice, hides the flowers. It’s sweet relief that they come out easier when he’s breathing hard. A part of him almost wants to spend all his time at the gym to keep that easy removal- but it’s out of character. He has to act normal. 

Even though normal is being quiet even when he wants to speak and filling in gaps when he’s uncomfortable. Even though normal is dreaming of losing a person he loves, every single night. Even though normal is hurting him, he has to present himself as normal.

Because he’s Mark Tuan, the quiet and supportive one. He’s the strong one, and they need him to be strong.

They’re so apart when they’re not together and Mark misses Jackson. He doesn’t need the heart to grow fonder but distance is a stalwart fiend.

It was late at night when Mark went to the bathroom to get rid of the flowers. How sad, that this was routine now. He turned to close the door when a voice he knew too well made him freeze.

“What are those?!”

Mark felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t even know if it’s a panic attack or more petals anymore. Eyes wide, he stared at their leader, who seemed more preoccupied with the bloody spider lilies in Mark’s hand. Only able to do one thing then, he began to choke. Small strings of petals began streams until he found himself choking on another bloody spider lily. Spitting it onto the floor, Mark closed the door between him and JB before responding. Taking a deep breath, Mark told Jaebeom the truth.

“Internet says hanahaki. I say that sounds like bullshit and is more likely spores or biowarfare. But everything points to hanahaki. I was keeping it a secret since I don’t know what this could mean.” Mark fumbled with the bathroom lock with his blood slick hands. Jaebeom’s voice was rough.

“You’ve thought about this haven’t you?”

“Search engines are great friends,” Mark’s response cut into a choking cough. (He could almost see Jaebeom pull out his phone, going to google first, then Naver. Finding nothing in Korean, he’d try English on Google- safe bet for an instinctive American search habit. Scanning the wiki page, Jaebeom’s eyes would grow wider and wider. After all- that’s what he did.)It was almost relief when the younger spoke again. 

“Who did you fall in love with?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. Letting him go was the hardest thing I ever had to do.” Mark felt delirious, as he pushed against the door while attempting to lock it. Jaebeom said nothing about the pronoun, instead sighing. 

“You say that, but don’t lie to yourself. You love him, still.” Fucking perceptive bandmates, Mark almost cursed. Instead, he pleaded. 

“Please, just go.”

“Just... let me know when you’re okay,” Jaebeom sighed from the other side of the door, “if you’re okay.”

“I’m not okay!” Mark exploded. “I’m dying from some fictional disease, and ruining hundreds of careers with this! And I can’t do anything about it because if I do, I ruin them anyway!”

“What?” A new voice startled the men on both sides of the door. Jinyoung.

“How much... of that did you hear?”

“Enough,” Jinyoung’s voice was cold. “You guys are funny, really funny! I don’t want to hear you joking like that.”

“We aren’t,” Mark’s voice began to tremble behind the door. 

“Are you drunk?!”

“I wish we were!” Jaebeom growled. “I caught hyung disposing of bloody flower petals but when I tried to ask him about them, he started coughing up more!”

“Prove it.”

Jaebeom picked the door lock and pushed. Mark was no longer strong enough to keep it shut without a lock, and the duo entered. 

“Hyung? Oh, hyung!” Jinyoing, to his credit, did not scream at the sight of the bloody petals, instead rushing to the sprawled out American. “You’re trembling.”

“Well I just hacked up my lungs that are somehow growing fucking vines,” Mark’s voice grew thin.

“What is this? How are you like this?!”

“Internet fan fictions say hanahaki, according to him. He says spores or bio warfare sounds more likely than that,” Jaebeom offered weakly.

“That’s Japanese,” Jinyoung noted. “Wasn’t that a manga? A girl who fell in love but due to it being unrequited she vomited flower petals?”

“You could have died, according to this article.” Jaebeom looked up from his phone.

“I am dying,” Mark said blandly. “You seem awfully calm about that.”

“I’m trying to be calm because you seem calm!” Jaebeom snapped, his nails digging into his palms.

“Oh- don’t do that,” Mark pointed at him. Jaebeom was trembling now. 

“Do you regret it?” Jinyoung asked suddenly, his eyes shiny with tears. Mark knew they had to accept it because they didn’t have an option. Hysterics would get them nowhere. Not that he was going anywhere, anyway.

“What? Being an idol? Falling in love? I regret none of it.”

“How long have you been like this?” Nyoungie’s voice begins to break. Mark smiled wearily as he admitted it.

“Four months.” His words made them gasp, they leaned in closer to note that Mark had been off the past four months but it had seemed to be a good thing, so they didn’t really think too much of it.

“Why are you whispering?” A fourth voice startled them. Eyes wide, they all gaped at Yugyeom and Youngjae, who was holding a whimpering Coco (who was probably why they were there). Youngjae gasped at the sight of the blood, and Yugyeom did as well. 

Mark winced, before starting to cough- startling the other two. Seeing the fear in his hyung’s eyes, Yugyeom also dropped to a whisper.

“Does hyung have the plague?!”

“What?! No!” Mark barely managed before coughing again. 

“What’s going on then hyu- whoa!” Youngjae yelped as Mark began to cough harder still, blood and spit and mucus dripping from his mouth, as small petals began to dislodge from his throat. Spitting the last red, bloody petals out, Mark sat back up with groan, only to lean back against the bathroom wall.

And feeling oddly like a satisfied chicken that just laid an egg, Mark lost consciousness. 

He awoke in his bed, surrounded by his bandmates. He almost laughed, this wasn’t the kind of attention he wanted. He could admit that it felt nice, though. 

“We need to talk about what happened last night,” Jaebeom said the second he noticed Mark was awake. He almost laughed to see his dongsaengs snap their heads to him.

“You told no one, right?”

“I thought we should wait to talk to you first,” Jinyoung admitted. 

“Thanks,” Mark smiled. 

“So?” Youngjae leaned onto the bed, his voice raw from crying. Mark shook his head.

“So nothing- I cough a lot at random points but I can sing and dance just fine- so will until I can’t.”

“Wha- Hyung!”

“There are a lot of people who have careers riding on me, guys. I’m not so cruel as to-“ His words were cut off abruptly with a shout.

“You can’t!”

“I’m dying. I can’t do anything about it but make the best of it. And I love being an idol with you guys.”

His sudden confession made them pause.

“And if it’s the last thing I do, I’ll be happy.”

It’s not him being noble, but selfish. He feels so selfish. But there isn’t anything else.

“What happens if you just remove the flowers?” Youngjae asked. Mark sighed, he’d searched frantically for a way but...

“Since Hanahaki is supposed to be fictional, there’s no existing surgery. If they remove the flowers without knowing the right way to, they could damage my lungs and I’ll die anyway. Not to mention, we don’t know what the surgery could do to me. I could forget the person for as long as I’ve known them- I could forget everything. If people learn about this, it can ruin GOT7.” Yugyeom picked up the spider lily- sticky with blood as it was- with his fingernails. He examined the dark red flower.

“You’ve... really looked into it.”

“I’ve had four- five now that I think about it- months.” Mark replied with a shrug.

“You said four!” Jinyoung nearly snapped.

“I forgot,” Mark shrugged, “it’s not like I’m counting down.” Youngjae pulled his knees to his chest. 

“And you really can’t get it done?”

“Well considering until now it was fictional, yeah!” Jinyoung grumbles. Mark looks away, he sees the tears tracing their faces and can’t stand that he’s the reason.

“Just... go do what you need to do today,” Mark said, getting out of the bed. He looked over his shoulder as he left the room,

“And tell no one.”

Things are awkward after that. Mark didn’t talk about it, continued his routine of pretending everything was fine. BamBam and Jackson didn’t know because he used his position as a hyung in a rare show of authority to tell them to tell no one. He pretended not to see the worried glances or confused looks when he left rooms. But as things got worse, he got worse.

Yes, he loves Jackson.

Yes, he’s dying.

Yes, he dreams about him every night in ways that make him wake up in tears. 

Yes, he knows he has to let him go.

Damn it, he tries! Mark had been trying for months!Yet every time he speaks to the younger, their familiarity and how he just feels like everything is in place shatters his resolve. 

His place is by Jackson’s side and he can’t be there because it’s killing him slowly. So he distances himself from them. He loves them but it’s too much. So he does solo activities, and tries to keep away. He has no options here, so he tries to cling to life. Maybe he can fall out of love with Jackson.

He can’t. Why would he lie to himself?

Mark is dying- he feels himself dying. 

In his dreams, he is open with how he feels sometimes. It doesn’t matter, he loses Jackson anyway. 

Every. Single. Time.

Either he dies or his grip fails him before that.

He laughs bitterly about it to himself at times. He loves Jackson and he loves him too much. He’s in too deep and it’s killing him with no way out. 

They’re preparing for a comeback, and the busy schedule pushes the group together. Mark fills his role.

Everything is almost normal.

Until it isn’t.

He needs to get away, to come up for air.

BamBam and Jackson see him distancing himself, and he knows his fellow AmeriThaiKong members would ask the others if there was a fight. Mark remains quiet throughout. He doesn’t hang out or join the others for dinner, opting to practice more. His sudden self-seclusion is weird, even for him.

“Are you trying to get to Yugyeom-level dance skills?” Jinyoung teases, to keep appearances. 

“Nobody can beat our little giant, Hit The Yug,” Mark teases back. It’s all in appearances. The other two are solidly confused, and it stays quiet. Jaebeom actually took him aside to ask why he’s practicing so hard. Apparently, because it made it easier to breathe was the right answer, because at some point those in the know stopped asking. Jackson and BamBam stopped when they noticed the others had too. The new muscles and easier dance was a bonus, and he could easily say the choreographer was proud of him. It was almost funny to see some of the trainees poke their heads in and gape at the hard work and long hours experienced idols were willing to take. If that was the impression he left, he’d be content.

When his mind wanders, it lands on Jackson and he coughs flowers. So he doesn’t let his mind wander, he rehearses, nitpicking so hard that he doesn’t let it become mindless. He takes care, grooming his internet presence carefully. The only problem now is when he’s with Jackson, and he’s so close that Mark can touch him- but he shouldn’t. He can’t. His hard work and self distancing is for a reason.

But the farther he gets, the more it hurts. He doesn’t want to separate himself from his second family, and even his blood family is surprised by him reaching out daily like a routine now. But Mark works because he never wants his last day to come after leaving a bad message, a bad impression. And for two weeks, it works. 

But then, he messes up.


	2. Chapter 2

It’s the middle of the night, after a dream of a cold rejection from Jackson, and Mark is in tears. He doesn’t know which is worse, the same nightmare or a different kind of loss each night. Jackson doesn’t reject him openly, but he stops being friendly with Mark behind cameras. He winces when Mark is close to him. And it hurts, but Mark soldiers on until Jackson stops being subtle and says he wants to go solo because he isn’t comfortable around Mark. And with that, Mark has ruined GOT7. His emotions and selfish wants ruined them.

Mark is in tears and he feels the crawling pain and retreats to the bathroom on reflex. And he spits up flowers and petals and blood and he cries. But he can’t stop. There might be a thorn in there, but he doesn’t think- just wants to stop thinking. To stop loving a hopeless love. He loves Jackson, how Jackson makes him feel. When he’s with the fencer, everything snaps into place. If he believed in it, he’d say he was his soulmate. Because with Jackson, everything felt right. 

Cascades of spider lilies flow from his throat to his mouth. The blood is warm on his tongue but Mark is cold, so cold. He’s trembling against the smooth porcelain toilet bowl. It’s 2 am, and Mark tried not to think about anything but keeping quiet. But he’s coughing and the door slams open. 

Mark is dizzy, so dizzy. The world is dancing and spotted with black. His head felt light, and he barely heard the scream as the world went dark.

“HYUNG!”

Mark wakes up in his bed, a glass of water by his side and Jaebeom holding his hand. His eyes are regretful,

“I told them, they... wouldn’t take no for an answer.” Mark’s reply is resigned.

“Of course they wouldn’t. What’s the general knowledge?”

“Oh... um... that you have hanahaki, it’s supposed to be fictional but you’ve had it for almost half a year, it’s a him, we don’t know who but we think you do, and there’s no cure?” Jaebeom must have used his leader position to stay in the room alone with him. Mark sighed,

“Sounds about right.”

“Would... you tell us? Who this person is?”

“I’ve loved him for, oh, three years now. And I can’t tell you.” Jaebeom nods mutely. He knows they can’t do anything. Mark knows there was a lot of tears, raging anger at the one who didn’t love Mark back, it was hard for them to accept it. It’s always harder to be the one left behind. 

A slam bounces around the room as Jackson forced the door open. Mark blinked.

“What... are you doing here?”

“You’re dying?! I’d never forgive you if you just left me like that!” Angry and sad tears glittered down Jackson’s face. Oh, don’t cry, beautiful boy. 

“Please, forgive me.” Mark’s voice was weak, dry. He tried to smile at Jackson, who exploded in rage.

“No! I can’t forgive you! My best friend is dying and he won’t tell me why! Who dares not love enough that this happens to you!” Mark remained patient. He knew Jackson would never forgive himself if he knew. So nobody could know. Nobody could ever know because he could stand for him to hate himself.

“Please forgive me, Gaga. I don’t want anything to change.” That wasn’t necessarily true, he’d love to be out of this bed, free to pine and keep it quiet with no red flowers. Maybe in due time fall out of love with Jackson (yeah, that wasn’t happening) and in love with someone who would love him back. If anything could change, he’d fall out of a hopeless love. He wanted to hope, to hold onto Jackson, but it was killing him and it could kill all of them. He’d be strong, and when all was said and done, he’d be able to say he’d done well. Maybe, he’d have had more time. And maybe, just maybe, Jackson could have fallen in love with him too. Their skinship and silly on-camera behavior could be real. They could be real. But he didn’t want Jackson to force himself, he didn’t want anyone’s pity. It wasn’t him. Even if this darkness and bloodied flowers devoured him from the inside out, he wanted no one’s pity. 

“How can you say that?! If you’re gone, that will change everything!” He wasn’t wrong. But he knew they could continue as GOT6, even though missing himself on stage and leaving them behind made him feel so, so, sick. He felt ill from his stomach at the idea. He didn’t want to leave them. He didn’t want them to leave him. Jaebeom sighed,

“Leave, Jackson. If you can’t stay, don’t.”

“Stay,” Mark was firm. He held Jackson’s hand, his pale and clammy fingers lacing with his glowing warm ones. Jackson’s eyes widened with tears. The kind he’d seen so familiarly in his dreams. He hadn’t wanted them to be real, but here they were, because of him. Sometimes, Mark really hated himself. 

“I don’t want this for you.”

“Just... hold my hand Gaga,” Mark’s eyes were soft.

“Why...? Hyung, why?” Jackson’s voice began to tremble.

“You broke him,” BamBam noted from behind him. Tears tracks and red rimmed eyes indicated to Mark how BamBam felt about this debacle. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation, Jacks.”

“You used to tell me everything! Damn it, hyung! Why are you hurting like this?! Why won’t you tell me why?!”

“Jackso-“ Jinyoung began, only to get cut off by a call from a manager. They all jumped, and Jackson’s eyes were hard as he walked out the room to take it.

“He left.” Jaebeom closed the door with a sigh. Only for it to open again, Jackson’s phone visibly duct taped to a wall across from him. Jackson was yelling.

“How could you?! How could you do this to us!” Mark sat up, knowing that this rage was at the flowers in his throat, not him, but he exploded himself. He was so, so angry at all of this. He just wanted to live, pine in peace. 

“How could I?! How could I? I dare you to feel what I feel! An emotion we sing about and build our careers on is so forbidden to me that it’s built itself up and now I’m going to die!”

The room fell silent. 

Before anyone could say anything, the door opened, and the voice of a manager hyung was audible. The others rushed to greet him and keep him away from Mark. 

“We have to be quiet,” Mark whispered. This was a secret from the managers who thought he had a flu. Jackson’s voice was tinged with rage.

“I want an answer, damn it!”

“It was you,” Mark’s words couldn’t rise above strained whispers anymore. “It was you the whole time.” What was the point in lying anymore? Here he was- dying- and there was no stopping it. He wanted to keep it a secret, but his resolve had melted to a puddle. Jackson had that way about him, that he just cut through his emotional walls like melted butter.

“Tell me again,” Jackson’s eyes were wide. “Say that again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Mark raised a brow. 

“The one you’re in love with... is me?”

Mark could barely breathe, he could feel his heartbeat in his throat. How weak was his pulse? It felt weak. 

Mark nodded, and closed his eyes.

_ Ah _ , he mildly noticed,  _ he hadn’t called his family today .  _

No matter, they’d know before it hit the news... he hoped.

A warm hand laced itself with his cold and clammy one.

“But that doesn’t make sense?”

Mark’s eyes opened.

Did Jackson not understand how  _lovable_ he was? He was talented, smart, funny, handsome. Jackson, to him, was always kind and open. Bubbly and sassy, Mark could joke with him and feel open and _free_.

By Jackson’s side, everything felt  _ right _ . 

But then Jackson spoke again,

“Isn’t hanahaki unrequited love?”

Jackson, it seemed, was thinking aloud. But a glimmer of hope sent Mark’s heart pounding. 

“What... are you saying?” 

Word were hard around the knot of hope in his throat and the flowers climbing up it. 

“Bad timing, I know, but I’ve been in love with you for four years. Had a crush on you since debut and well...” Jackson laughed awkwardly. “It was Amber noona who pointed it out. She took one look at me and my rambling about you and said that was way more than a crush. I... when I’m with you, you listen. You care about what I have to say as Jia-Er, as your Gaga. Not as Jackson Wang, idol extraordinaire. You make me feel warm and I love spending time with you because you complete me and I really don’t want to lose you-“ Mark couldn’t hear the rest over the blood roaring in his ears. Jackson loved him. 

Mark’s eyes were wide, and he was about to reply, (maybe even kiss him, because  _ fuck _ did he want to kiss him) before the biggest knot in his throat erupted. Mark began to cough,  _hard_.  What was happening? It was bloody, and painful and dealt like his throat was being wrapped around and 

s 

q 

e 

e 

z 

e 

d.

Jackson’s scream of “HYUNG!” called the others in. Blood was dripping freely, flower petals too. Suddenly, a gust of air pushed out a vine of thorns, and another and another. They just hung loosely from his mouth. Jaebeom, who had done probably the most research, gasped. He knew what was happening. 

“Keep going, hyung,” he coaxed, igniting the room in worried chatter. “Almost there.”

With a final, heaving, bloodied, cough, Mark spit out an entire root system. Wearily, Mark looked up at Jackson, who was worriedly holding him.

“Well, now that that’s gone, you’re still bleeding! You’re dripping! You’re bleed dripping! You need to go see a doctor!” Jackson rambled as he lifted Mark from his bloody sheets and out the door. Mark felt nothing but warmth and a numb shock.

Jackson loved him, had quietly loved him too. Jackson had felt that sense of being in the right place by his side too. Jackson was holding him, in his strong and warm embrace. 

He felt like he was flying.

Or maybe it was the blood loss and being carried. But right then, he was just at home.

“How did he end up with this kind of internal bleeding?!” The doctors in the ER were utterly confused. The members all looked between themselves and sighed. The leader, Jaebeom, had to speak. 

“A medical mystery,” he had elected to say. The other looked at him confused, and Jackson decided that after so many secrets, honestly was a better policy.

“How many NDAs did you sign?”

“So many that your presence in here might as well be a state secret,” a nurse chimed.

Jackson looked back at the others, before looking the doctor in the eyes.

“Have you ever heard of hanahaki?”

The doctor nearly spit out his coffee.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Hanahaki. Unrequited love, flowers in your lungs, supposed to be fictional, yada yada?”

“ _ Supposed to be?! _ ”

“Mark here had it, for over half a year which... holy shit it’s been over half a year... Anyway, turns out the love was not unrequited... I guess? I don’t know what happened completely, but he spit out an entire root system.” Jinyoung’s weak grin and the incredulity of the doctors cheered them up immensely. The fact that Mark wasn’t choking on his own feelings had a huge part in that too.

“And you didn’t take him to a hospital before?” A doctor who had no idea what was going on asked in confusion. Jaebeom was able to answer that one.

“Well there’s not real cure for a fictional disease and Mark didn’t want to become a medical miracle in the worst way possible.”

“So, he was just... living every single second knowing one of them could be his last? For half a year?” A nurse was in tears. 

Jackson winced, Mark was unconscious in a bed now and thought he was dying when he’d told him. The doctors peppered them with questions that they couldn’t answer all the way. But from the looks of it, Mark was going to heal. 

The doctors went in to check up on Mark and see if they needed to do anything.    
  


Leaving Jackson with the others.

“What happened in there?” Youngjae finally asked. Jackson looked at his own trembling hands.

“It was me. The one he thought didn’t love him back was me.” Yugyeom tugged at the ends of his hair. 

“But... he’s fine now? What happened between you two?”

“Turns out I needed to admit that I’ve been in love with him for four years. He’s practically my soulmate, I couldn’t lose him.” Jackson flushed, he wasn’t used to saying it out loud. He’d kept it a secret for so long, it was so freeing to say it.  _ Yeah _ , Jackson loves Mark. And  _ nobody _ _can do a fucking thing_ about it.

“Wait but if he loves you, and you’ve loved him for longer-“ Jaebeom looked utterly confused. 

“Wait, how long...?” Jackson gaped at him. 

“Three years,” Jaebeom sighed. Jinyoung smiled,

“So you spoke about your emotional constipation and... I guess... figured things out?” Jackson paused.

“I mean, not really? I just asked how it was possible because I loved him back. I told him I loved him back and then... root system?”

“Maybe it’s ‘cause he thought you didn’t,” BamBam piped up. “We still don’t know how the hell this hanahaki works in real life.” Youngjae nodded. Jaebeom took charge again,

“If you love each other, we aren’t getting in the way of that, but we are gonna need to figure out how it’s going to affect us. We all don’t have a problem with you being gay... even if it’s a little odd...”

“Excuse you, I am a proud bisexual.” Jackson replied in faux affront. And the others just laughed. Youngjae just smiled,

“We’re happy for you!” And Yugyeom only grinned,

“And very ready to tease.”

Jackson stayed overnight by Mark’s bed. He wasn’t intensely religious but he prayed that whatever was up there could hear him, to not to let Mark die now. He left dealing with the managers to the leader, who refused until they’d all sat down and had a talk. With him and Mark. And if that wasn’t scary.

But then Mark opened his eyes. His beautiful eyes.

“I love you,” was the first thing he said when he saw it. Jackson held Mark to his chest and said it over and over. And Mark just cried. He held Jackson back and said,

“Can you be my person?” And Jackson smiled,

“Hell yeah, I’ll be your person. That’s me! I’m Mark’s and Mark’s alone!”

And they were complete. Everything was set in place and they were happy. 

The others were ecstatic and Yugyeom slyly added that the sock on the door protocol especially applied to them. Mark and Jackson just laughed, wild and free and happy. And Mark was brighter than he’d been in so long. Even Aghases noticed, but said nothing because there was nothing to say. This was an element of their lives that they kept to themselves, because it was them. Just Mark and Jackson and they were happy.

So time went on, Mark healed and went right back to doing what he loved. Under... very watchful eyes of management who knew only that he’d gone to the hospital and refused to say why and members who refused to admit that they’d moved with one eye on their healing eldest for a while now. Jackson held his hand at every opportunity, and they were together again. And in some ways, nothing changed from before. In others, everything changed. It was obvious in the way Jackson looked at Mark, holding him and openly loving him and he could do the same. And GOT7 was whole, a family with all the love it entailed. 

“Ugh, it tastes like sludge,” Mark recoiled from his mug. It was another late night, and it was just them at the kitchen table. Jackson was working and Mark was curled up beside him with some lyrics of his own. They swapped back and forth, giggling at the very hetero lyrics that were 100% not who they were right then. Jackson liked girls, sure, but he loved Mark and Mark alone. And Mark was just happy to be with Jackson. 

“But it’s caffeinated sludge,” Jackson waggled his eyebrows, taking a sip from his own. Mark just laughed, happy in the warmth of holding Jackson’s hand. And in the natural way of how they sat beside each other, rested his head against Jackson’s chest, where he could hear his heart beat a strong song just for him.

And you know what? He felt alive.


End file.
